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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368468">When Morning Light Sings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeromeoandjuliet/pseuds/likeromeoandjuliet'>likeromeoandjuliet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Short Tales of Betty and Jughead [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Riverdale (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Continuously writes new stuff when there’s other fics to be finished, Cute babies, F/M, FBI agent betty, Married!Bughead, domestic little shits, sequel time, writer jughead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:42:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368468</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeromeoandjuliet/pseuds/likeromeoandjuliet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to ‘Your Heart and Your Last Name’. </p><p>Seven years later, life has surely changed for Betty and Jughead and now they’re gearing up to tackle a new chapter of their lives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Betty Cooper &amp; Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Short Tales of Betty and Jughead [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1264379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When Morning Light Sings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Also, I just signed up on tumblr! So go follow me, it’s like-romeo and Juliet! Always fun ❤️</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s surprised to see that Betty’s awake when he gets home. He had called to tell herhis flight was delayed and he’d be home late and she had to go to work tomorrow, so she should go to bed and they’d see each other in the morning. But, as always, his wife is too stubborn, but he can’t deny the tiny piece of him that feels relieved that he can see her beautiful green eyes right now. He was tired, and Betty always settled his mind, no matter what. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had been seven wonderful years since they had gotten married, on that crazy year, a week after graduating high school. And their world had quieted down...almost. It had been an eventful six years but at least, they were normal kind of events. Jughead still held the mantle for the Baxter Brothers novels. Having written three of them by now, all of them a true success, while writing a best selling novel about Jason Blossom’s murder, had given them a kind of stability neither of them had ever dreamed of. He spent most of his time writing at home, in his office but often when a book was released, he’d have book signing sessions, book tours and he’d have to leave a few days at a time. And this was his follow up book to the Jason Blossom one, “The River’s Edge”. This one wasn’t personal, per se. It was one of Betty’s cases where he had acted as a consultant. He had managed to wiggle his way in, through a deal with the director of the Betty’s field office. It helped that the lead detective on most cases was his wife and that, the success rate of them working together was close to a 100%, also Charles. So, their life consisted of murder investigations and dinners with their lovely normal friends they had made in the last seven years, their family when they came to visit and having a stable, suburban life, complete with the nice house, the backyard and the dog. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jellybean was one of the most consistent presences in their life, at the moment. They were living in Boston, where Betty had been stationed and, Jughead could write from anywhere, so they made the move after getting their degrees. And Jellybean was in college now, at MiT. And he was the one paying for everything her scholarship didn’t cover. Despite his dad getting his act straight, college was expensive and he couldn’t possibly afford it. And besides, he and Betty had the money. Enough that most of the time, Jughead didn’t know what to do with it. The Baxter Brothers deal alone meant that neither of them would have to work another day in their lives and if he could afford putting JB through college, he would. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Putting his key in the door, he can hear Nacho padding across the house to greet him already and he smiles to himself, already relaxing. He opens the door and is attacked by the golden retriever that had been the love of their life for the past three years. He had been a rescue, abandoned when he was a year old. At the shelter, he’d been named Nacho and if his little face hadn’t sold them, the name surely did. May dogs with food for names be their always. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hiya, boy. Missed you.” He laughs, as Nacho jumps around him and he places his bags down to greet him. “Where’s your mom, huh, bud?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nacho patters to the living room where Jughead finds his wife sprawled out on the couch, under a blanket, asleep. There’s Netflix on the TV, in what he’s always felt to be in a mocking tone, Are you Still Watching?’ and it’s very clear that she had tried to stay awake for him, but hadn’t quite managed to do so. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jughead smiles at her peacefulness. He couldn’t be happier that sleep meant tranquility and that there were very rare nightmares nowadays, for both of them. Over the years, he had seen the love of his life overcome the trauma of all that happened in sweet old Riverdale. With therapists, they both became stronger, dealt with and confronted their demons and life was better now. They were happy, without looking over their shoulder at all times just waiting for something to pop out and ruin it all over again. It was happiness without ever questioning said happiness. It pure and free and they’d never take it for granted. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked too peaceful for him to wake her but he knew she’d sleep better in bed and not end up with her back aching in the morning. And he selfishly wanted to sleep next to his wife, no matter how comfortable she looked, bundled up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Crouching down beside the couch, he places a hand on the top of her head, caressing her hair. “Betts?” He leans down to kiss her cheek softly. She stirs, eyes fluttering open. “Hey, I’m home.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi,” She smiles. “I tried staying up for you.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He laughs softly. “I can see that.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Missed you.” She reaches for him, pulling him down so she can kiss his lips. He sighs, feeling every bit of tension in his body disappear. “Rough week?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just tiring. You know I hate press week.” He tells her and she nods, frowning. “How was your week? Okay?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was good, yeah but we’ll talk in the morning. Let’s go to bed, Jug.” She says with a lazy smile. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You go ahead, I’ll lock up.” He pecks her forehead before helping her up from the couch. When she’s up, he pulls her into his arms, holding her against him. “Missed you like crazy.” They stay in the embrace for a few moments before Nacho wiggles his way between them, asking to be pet. They laugh, pulling away to pet their demanding baby. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, come on, Nacho, up we go.” Betty says and the dog perks up, running ahead of her. “See you in a bit, my love.” She smiles back at him before turning the corner and running up the stairs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grins to himself, still in disbelief that he gets to live this life with her. Neither of them had ever expected that this would be their future, even when they dreamed about it. The dream had always been being with each other, away from the hellhole that was Riverdale. All they had was beyond anything they hadimagined. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jughead had never had this kind of domestic life, but he was sure that this was what family felt like. For years, she’d been his family and now they had this, a beautiful marriage, a life together that didn’t revolve around trying to stay alive. The normalcy they lived in astounded Jughead beyond anything that they had lived in Riverdale. Coming home to her had always been a dream, that became real a lot sooner than he had expected when it all went up in flames with the Farm and Alice, but nowadays he rarely questioned his happiness, rarely had doubts about wether it’d last. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Betts?” He murmurs as he climbs in bed, wrapping his arm around her from behind. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmmh?” She acknowledges as he pulls her closer. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you.” He places a soft kiss to her shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hums, interlocking their fingers as she settles her hand on top of his. “Love you too, Juggie.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">•</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Morning finds them at a late hour, Saturday proving to the most wonderful day of the week. No alarm clocks are set and they can just laze around until whichever hour they like. Jughead wakes first with a mess of blonde hair tickling his face, his wife snuggling closer to him when he moves. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Glancing back at the clock, taking note that it’s eleven, he lets out a soft sigh of contentment, rubbing Betty’s back. Closing his eyes again, he pulls her closer, a soft smile on his lips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can feel you smiling, Jug.” Betty mumbles. He laughs, kissing her head. “What?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just really glad I’m home.” She looks up at him, eyes opening to see him, a smile of her own on her lips. “I really hate being without you and I hate the whole firework show around releasing the book.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, baby.” Betty frowns. “But it’s all over now and if Janet wants to fight me, I’ll get my serpent jacket out of the closet if she tries to get more of you.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you going to do? Threaten my publisher with a switchblade?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not my style, husband dearest.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, right, you’ll FBI your way into threatening her and...” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And strongly advise her not to do take you away from me for more than a few days.” She grins. He kisses her lips, laughing. “I did miss you.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Missed you too, Betts. So much.” He sighs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smirks up at him. “That much, huh?” He furrows his brows chuckling but then quiets down as his wife moves so she’s straddling him. “Then we have some catching up to do.” She grins.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmmh.” She mumbles, pressing her lips to his. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">•</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Betty’s making pancakes while Jughead brews their coffee. Every once in a while, she’ll glance at him, his hair messy, wearing an infamous ‘S’ T-shirt, much like the one she’s wearing and she’s taken back to the beginning of their relationship, to nights in his family’s trailer and mornings making pancakes while he hovered over her. And then them, living together in the former Cooper house, her making breakfast while he and Jellybean bickered over everything and nothing while she looked on fondly at the family life had dropped on her. The family that turned out to be the one she craved all along, the one that she belonged in. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Smells nice.” Jughead mumbles, as he comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist with his chin resting on her shoulder. She turns her head to kiss his cheek and resumes his task of setting the table, while the coffee brews. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Frankie had the baby this week.” Betty mentions absentmindedly, as she splits the pancakes between their two plates. “Wednesday I think.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah? How is she?” Jughead asks, frowning. Frankie was a girl Betty had saved. She’d been kidnapped and Jughead had helped solve the case and save her, catching the bastard and putting him behind bars. The girl had been twenty-one at the time and that had been two years ago. They’d stayed in touch, more or less. The girl was thankful for their support and since the case hit close to home for Betty, it made her want to help her. It had turned out that the kidnapper was Frankie’s father and he had held her in captivity in the basement of an abandoned house. The important thing is that they had saved her and two years later, she had called them with some exciting news. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s happy.” Betty nods. “I really think so.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How’s the kid?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s adorable. She sent pictures, hold on.” Betty scrolls through her phone and turns it to him, showing the little bundled boy in the pictures, rosy skin and perfect little features.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Man, he’s cute.” He laughs softly, eyes still trained on the screen, while Betty stays for a second, her heart quickening, as Jughead swipes through the photos Jackie had sent, an adoring look on his face. “Betts?” He questions curiously, nudging her when she stays silent for too long. “You okay?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t say anything, instead, she pulls him to her crashing her lips into his in a slow kiss. He laughs, against her lips, the happiness never ending with her lips on his. But what comes next, the words that fall out of her lips stop the world on its axis and he can’t possibly explain the feeling that blooms in his chest at what her words mean. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think I want a baby.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is another one of those life changing moments he can add to the list of moments he’s lived with Betty. The world outside seems to quiet down at her admission. He swears the light changes and the kitchen is covered in a golden glow, Betty’s eyes even greener. If this were a movie, after the montage of perfect domestic moments, the music would stop now, just like his heart had skipped a beat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve been thinking about it lately.” Betty chuckles softly, her voice a low whisper. “And I really do. Want a baby, that is. Now. It’s been a while since we’ve talked about kids but since V had Victoria, I’ve been a bit on a baby fever. And now with Frankie, I’m sure. 100%, I want a baby.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You do?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I do, Jug. So bad.” She breathes out and he pulls her closer, forehead leaning on hers, as he takes a deep breath. “So, what do you say? Want to put a baby in me?” There’s a smirk on her face that pulls a laugh out of him. And honestly, this might go in his top five of favourite moments, although he’s sure that moment will be replaced by a thousand others yet to come. And that’s the beauty of life with Betty. For every beautiful moment he shares with her, he’s sure the future will always be brighter, even when the sun shines down on them every day. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Betty Jones, there is nothing I’d rather do.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">•</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The process of trying is rather enjoyable, if he put it lightly. Their sex life has always been amazing but lately it’d been sensational, mind blowing. They’d fuck everywhere, at any time of the day. Betty’s lunch hour went by faster than either of them wished for and as soon as she got home, she was on him. He’d never get enough of her, in any lifetime. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His wife was no longer the sweater wearing teenage girl, even if he did find what went on under those sweaters was anything but innocent and vanilla. They’d experimented enough, even in the murder capital of the world. But Betty, as his wife, as a woman was something else entirely. The confidence she exudes sends him to another plain of pleasure and the mere fact that they are trying for a baby is otherworldly. The image of her, stomach swollen with his child is enough to get him on his knees. He still marvelled at the fact that this was his life and that he got to live it, all theirs.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had been close to a month since she proposed trying and it’d been blissful until Betty had emerged from the master bathroom with tears in her eyes and a negative test in her hand. From where he stood, this was fine, they’d try again. He quite liked trying and he knew that sometimes people don’t get pregnant right away, they rarely do. But he knew that Betty’s mind would probably be spinning with what ifs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll try again.” He tells her, kneeling in front of her on the bed. She nods, wiping a tear away. He places his hands on her face. “It’s been a month, Betts. We’ve only started trying,alright?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She nods. “I know, I just...I want it so bad, Jug.” She breathes out. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you do, Betts, I know. And we’ll get there, alright?” She nods her head, burying he grace in his shoulder, sighing. “And it’s fun to try.” He grins and she laughs softly, hitting his thigh. “It’ll happen soon.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except it doesn’t. It doesn’t happen the next month, or the next. Three months go by and Betty isn’t pregnant and he can see how that’s slowly destroying her. The disappointment of negative test after negative test taking its toll on her and his bubbly wife is now getting reduced to a nervous mess, ignoring the issue for as long as she can. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re in bed, he’s still reading a book, as a sort of break from writing, while she’s lying down, the tv in the background and he wants to talk about this. He needs to reassure her that it’ll be okay, that it isn’t instant, that sometimes it takes longer. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just say it.” Betty sighs, turning to face him. “I know when something’s on your mind, so go on, Juggie. Fire away.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Putting his book down, he lies down so he’s facing her. He brushing a strand of hair away from her face, soft look on his face, as he gulps down. “I think we should get some tests done.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sucks in a breath. “For the...?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just to check. There might be something wrong with me or you or both or nothing at all but I think it’d do us good knowing for sure.” He says carefully, gauging her reaction. “Just to be sure.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She takes a second before nodding. “Okay, just to be sure.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“To be sure.” He kisses her forehead before pulling her closer to him, wrapping her up in his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Betty schedules the appointment and the next week they have the tests done which means it’s still a week before they get the results. And Betty’s decided to forget about it all until they actually get the results. The task is easier said than done obviously, but a new case is brought to her desk and it’s enough to keep her busy for the time being. In the waves of a new mystery to solve, she can obsess over something else, something actually useful that could bring closure to others. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know I said I was taking an FBI break but can I join you?” He grins, leaning against the doorway to the office, where Betty’s desk is littered with files upon files. Her ponytail is up which means business and Jughead will always stand by the fact that FBI Betty is the hottest his wife has ever been, with her unbelievable ways to crack cases and the excitement when she starts up a theory. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmmh, depends...are you going to be useful or will it be like last time?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He laughs, walking to her desk. “Last time was not my fault.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It wasn’t? Remind me again who pushed the files off this very desk because I looked...what was it? Delectable?” She smirks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As I said, not my fault you were born to be this beautiful and to drive your husband crazy.” He grins, going around the desk so he can kiss her lips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See? You’re already doing it!” She whines and Jughead pecks his lips one last time before picking up a case file. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Crime of passion?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Betty shakes her head. “Too clean. That’s the only problem. It should be a crime of passion, if our primary suspect is to be the killer.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The husband?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes. He was the only one in the house and we found pictures of his wife’s affair on his computer. So he has motive.” She tells him. “However, it feels too easy.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Someone’s framing him?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe. I’m looking into it, trying to figure this out.” She pauses. “He was in the house when she was killed, as far as we know, he was the only one there.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps he wasn’t.” Jughead says, as he flicks through the file. “Why is the FBI on this though?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because our victim is the senator’s secretary, so it’s within our jurisdiction.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you’re sure the husband didn’t do it?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Positive, Jug. I’ve seen theatrics, this wasn’t it. He’s not a killer. He was devastated when we got there and he’s grieving, loudly may I add. That was real. And the murderer was methodic. There is no way he could’ve done it when he was that disturbed. He couldn’t have.” Betty explain, shaking her head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright.” He nods. “If he didn’t do it, who did?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Betty sighs. “We don’t know. There’s nothing suspicious around them.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Except for the affair.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Except for the affair, you’re right.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And the wife’s lover?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He split. No one’s heard of him.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Suspicious.” Jughead smirks. “Then I guess you have to find him, huh?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Betty sighs. “I’m exhausted, it was a long day.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then let’s go to bed.” He smiles, kissing her forehead. “Nacho’s already taking up half the bed, hurry before he’s in a deep slumber from which only food will wake him.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You sure Nacho’s isn’t biologically yours?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">•</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jug, this is a mess!” Betty breathes out, on the phone to Jug. “They have a kid, which Nathan Dean forgot to mention! The kid was still in the house!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean? How old?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A newborn. He was put in a foster home, right away.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why did Dean not tell you about it?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m guessing because it isn’t his, and it just makes his case look worse. We had DNA tests done, the results are in on Friday.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So does hiding the kid. Are you still sure he isn’t guilty?” Jughead questions, leaning back against the couch, at home. “Cause this is making him look like the culprit, Betts.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This case gets more and more complicated by the second, honestly. None of this makes any sense, Jug. We have the dead secretary of a Senator, seemingly murdered by her husband, her secret lover missing and a hidden kid. Nobody in the neighborhood knew about it.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The kid?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. We did the rounds, Jug. No one saw Heather pregnant over the last few months and it’s a newborn. A month old. There isn’t any record of the kid either.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shit.” Jughead curses. “Do you think this is even more twisted than we thought?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Always is.” She says. “We’ll know for sure wether or not it’s Nathan’s kid soon or even if it’s hers, but my bet is that it’s not. And that this is starting to look a lot like a cover up.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just curious, have you looked into her boss?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Vaguely, we’re questioning him tomorrow.” She tells him. “Why?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just a thought. Might be worth it. From what I’ve seen he’s a little shady, like conservative republican pays people off and makes them sign NDA’s kind of shady.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Betty sighs. “Yeah, I’ve heard rumors too, but we’ll know something tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What time are you coming home?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Six, pizza for dinner? I’ll pick it up on the way from Tony’s?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jughead laughs. “When would I ever say no to pizza, my dearest wife?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">•</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jughead feels the nervousness radiating off of her the minute he wakes up. They don’t exactly discuss it, even as they have breakfast. Betty talks about anything other than the matter at hand, focusing on her case, walking him through what they knew, so far. They discuss theories on the way to the fertility clinic and Jughead holds her hand the whole way through. And it’s not until they’re about to head inside that she stops him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No matter what happens, we’ll be fine, right?” She asks, in a moment of vulnerability, all that’s she’s been putting off finally coming up to the surface. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His face softens and he places both hands on her cheeks. “Betts, even if there is anything wrong with either of us, there are other options, okay? But for what it’s worth, I can assure you that this world has cursed us far too much to ruin this one thing for us.” He tells her, a soft smile on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hope you’re right, Juggie.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a smile, he kisses her lips. “Off we go, Mrs. Jones.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tells jokes to keep her distracted until their appointment is up. And he succeeds, as always, putting a smile on her face for the time being. If you had told ten year old Jughead that one day Betty Cooper would be his wife, that they would be sitting at a fertility clinic because they want to have a child together, he’d take you to the hospital to check for a head injury. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In his mind, he still thinks back to when she first tried to throw him a birthday party. And he’d freaked out on her, claiming they were too different, claiming that her perfection would be broken by his darkness. Full on extra Jughead right there, just trying to push away his anchor, the love of his life. He laughed at that teenage boy nowadays. Betty </span>
  <span class="s2">Cooper </span>
  <span class="s1">Joneswas his soulmate, they belonged together in any universe, in any life, it wouldn’t matter. He’d fight for their love no matter what happened and the thought there could potentially be an extension of their love in the near future, in whatever form they’d come to live, made his heart soar. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mr and Mrs. Jones?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The doctor sits in front of them, a friendly smile on her face. Betty liked her, the woman made them feel at ease and Jughead appreciated that. The file in her hand would probably dictate a lot of their future and Jughead could feel his heart beating, as they sit down. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My husband was obsessed with the Baxter Brothers novels when he was a kid and he swears yours was wonderful. Even if he is a thirty year old man.” The doctor tells him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I was obsessed with them too. It was an honor to write for the franchise.” Jughead chuckles. “Tell your husband I appreciate it.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I will.” The doctor nods with a warm smile. “Now, the results!” She pauses. “Mrs. Jones, you have perfectly healthy eggs, they’re actually hospitable and with perfect function, you’ve lucked out.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, that’s a relief.” Betty says. Jughead, smiles, squeezing his wife’s hand. She looks at him with a concerned look on her face. “And my husband?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The doctor nods. “You have what we call low sperm motility. It means that the sperm isn’t efficient enough to make it to the egg and ends up dying. To put it plainly, the sperm is too slow, so that is what’s making it harder for you to conceive.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, how do we fix it?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll prescribe you some vitamins and you should consider controlling your diet, your habits in general, making them healthier. And if that doesn’t work and you still find yourselves unable to conceive, we can try IUI.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks over at Betty, who is holding an amused smile on her face and furrows his brows, nudging her with his foot, as the doctor continues explaining the rest of the processes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lazy sperm. I have lazy sperm.” Jughead shakes his head when they get to their car. Betty laughs. “Don’t laugh. My little swimmers are slow motherfuckers.” He sighs dramatically. “I knew I should’ve tried to be more athletic.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You think that’s what would make them faster?” His wife snorts. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, Betts. We’ll never know.” He grins. “I am sorry, for all it’s worth.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have nothing to be sorry for, silly.” Betty rolls her eyes. “We have a shot. If you can train your little swimmers to go faster, that is.” She winks. “Until then, let’s take it easy. See what happens. Who knows, maybe one of your little guys made it to the athletic team.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just then, her work phone starts ringing. It’s her colleague, Jeffrey. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s up?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We just got a match on the DNA on the kid.” He pauses. “The kid isn’t theirs. It’s Genevieve Johnson.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The Senator’s daughter?” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! So, new little fic! A continuation of ‘Your Heart and Your Last Name’! In the meantime, I have been trying to finish the next chapter of Dancing in a Snow Globe. </p><p>Tell me what you think and if you have any requests for little one shots, go for it! </p><p>All the love xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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